


I Can't Lose You Too

by Theworldisours



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-22
Updated: 2014-12-22
Packaged: 2018-03-02 13:28:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2813639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Theworldisours/pseuds/Theworldisours
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jon had walked off the medical tent with only a bandage on his shoulder, thanks to Robb. Jon was grateful, he really was, but Robb shouldn’t have run to him; he should’ve stayed at his post. Now he was hurt and Jon was hurt and Robb’s men were not happy about it. He could feel their eyes following him as he walked to Robb’s chambers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Can't Lose You Too

**Author's Note:**

> When I wrote this, a few months ago, it was supposed to be only a drabble that I'd probably never show anyone but I reread it and I found it wasn't so bad... so after a bit of a revision I decided to post it, but I'll warn you this was and still is self indulgent hurt/comfort with a bit of smut, don't expect much plot, (or any at all).  
> If you really need context this could be an AU where Jon doesn't take the black and instead goes to war with Robb, and sometime after Theon killed those boys to pass them for Bran and Rickon.  
> Many thanks to [DragonHeartedGirl](http://archiveofourown.org/users/DragonHeartedGirl) for making me rewrite (and post) this, and of course for making sure my grammar didn't hurt anyone, I love you to pieces.

Jon had walked off the medical tent with only a bandage on his shoulder, thanks to Robb. Jon was grateful, he really was, but Robb shouldn’t have run to him; he should’ve stayed at his post. Now he was hurt and Jon was hurt and Robb’s men were not happy about it. He could feel their eyes following him as he walked to Robb’s chambers.

He was walking to the door when Lady Catelyn walked out. She shot him a cold look as she passed. Jon deserved that one, though; Robb had got hurt because of him. It would have made him mad any other day, but not today.

The guards at the doors of Robb’s chambers didn’t pay him much attention, not even when he told them no one should come in until he (or the king) said otherwise, but Jon could tell they hadn’t liked the orders.

There were maids in the room, one changing Robb’s bandages and the other taking away his empty tray. Jon waited for them to finish and go away before walking to the bed where Robb sat shirtless, smiling at him like nothing had happened, like Jon hadn’t almost got him killed a few hours ago.

“You’re not going to thank me, are you?” Robb asked with a sigh, the smile disappearing from his face.

“No.” Jon answered, “What in the seven hells were you thinking, Robb? You could’ve gotten yourself killed.”

Jon closed his eyes, replaying the image of Robb running to him in his mind. He had pushed and killed whoever was between them, not paying attention to his flanks, and if it weren’t for Grey Wind…

“ _You_  could’ve been killed, Jon.” Robb retorted, raising his voice.

“I am not the king!” Jon shouted before he could refrain himself. It didn’t matter anyway; the only ones who could hear were the guards outside.

“You’re my brother!” Robb shouted back, “I’ve lost enough already, Jon. I  _won’t_  lose you.” He added with his voice lower, Jon would’ve heard the pain on Robb’s voice even if he didn’t know Robb as much as he did.

“You’re never doing that again,” Jon told him, his tone more commanding than he indented “Swear to me, Robb; swear for father.”

“I can’t do that.” Robb said, shifting his gaze to the window. He wouldn’t give in, Jon knew it. He’d bite his lip and look away and shout at him but he’d never give in.

Jon sat at the edge of the bed and sighed.

“Robb…” he whispered.

“Come here.” Robb said before Jon could say anything else.

Jon moved until he and Robb were mere inches apart from one another, Robb’s gaze locked on his. Jon could see Robb’s pain, and anger, and fear, written on his face with the splattered blood from the battle. Jon tried not to look at the bandages, not to remember iron cutting flesh and blood, Robb’s blood, flowing. He couldn’t, as much as he tried to, forget the sour taste in his mouth when he thought–

“I can’t lose you too, Jon, I  _can’t_.” Robb said, interrupting Jon’s thoughts. He put his hands at the sides of Jon’s face. Robb’s voice sounded composed enough, but there were tears in the corners of his eyes, fighting to get out. For a minute he wasn’t the Young Wolf, the King in the North or even a lord, just the boy Jon had knew all his life. If only they could go back in time to when none of this had happened, even if it meant not feeling at home and having Catelyn’s cold eyes following him everywhere… father would be fine, the girls would be fine, the boys, and he and Robb, they’d all be fine.

Jon wasn’t a fool. He knew how much Robb was hurting with the news about their brothers, he knew it and he had told Robb that he didn’t need to pretend, not with him, but the sight of tears in Robb’s eyes still made Jon’s throat close.

“I can’t lose you either, Stark. You better start thinking before doing stupid things again. If you  _die,_ ” Jon’s voice trembled at the word, “I’ll follow you into hell.” Robb snorted.

“I wouldn’t expect less of you.” He said with a smile, not a real one though. When was the last time Robb had truly smiled?

Robb kissed Jon before he could think of an answer. The kiss wasn’t like the ones they shared before, slow and secretive, too afraid of what they felt, too afraid of getting caught. This one was urgent, needy, and frantic, like the reality that this kiss might never have happened finally caught up to them. Robb’s hair was soft beneath Jon’s fingertips; he pulled Jon closer, the kiss getting even more frantic. Robb’s hands moved through his body, trying to find somewhere to touch. When he found none, Robb groaned into the kiss and tugged at Jon’s clothes.

Jon broke the kiss and started to undress himself.

He was already naked when he started taking Robb’s breeches, his wounded arm not letting him do much to help Jon. Jon’s shoulder hurt as he pulled the breeches and smallclothes from Robb’s legs, but he found it easy to ignore when Robb was lying naked in front of him.

Jon kissed Robb again, this kiss no less hungry than the first. As Jon looked for something to use as lubrication, he could hear his loud breath in the silent room. He found a vial with oil, no doubt intended for massaging Robb’s sore muscles; it’d have to do.

Robb bit his lip to suppress his groans while Jon prepared him, need growing inside them. Jon forgot about the damn battle, about their injuries, about cold glares and snares he’d get for a long time. All he could think about was how much he needed to be inside Robb. Jon ignored the small voice in his head telling him that if the sword had gone deeper, if help had come too late, then this would never have happened again; that even this could be the last time they were together. He could ignore the voice, but the heaviness on his chest was still there, even as he swallowed Robb’s gasps and groans with kisses.

In the end the preparation wasn’t one of the best, but it didn’t matter because Robb was asking him to do it already.

Jon put his legs on the bed, finding a comfortable place to sit, and helped Robb into his lap. Robb helped him guide Jon’s cock into himself, Jon held him by the hips, letting it fill him slowly. He was aware that if he went too fast, with the precarious amount of preparation, it would hurt Robb, and he couldn’t let himself cause Robb any more pain today.

When Jon was completely inside him, Robb rested his head against Jon’s (good) shoulder, his hands touching at Jon’s sides, to get closer or to keep him in place. Jon didn’t know.

Jon’s hands were still on Robb’s hips, making slow circles over his hipbone with one his fingers, enjoying their closeness and allowing himself to breathe relieved for the first time since Robb got hurt. He could smell sweat, blood, and the salve the Maester had used on Robb’s injury; right now that was the best thing he had ever smelled. It meant Robb was alive and breathing and warm.

As much as Jon would have liked to stay like that and hold Robb close for as long as possible, he couldn’t, not when Robb was so tight around him and starting to move on his lap. Jon helped him move up and down on his shaft, Robb’s moans were almost whispers against his shoulder, their movements were slow at first, growing faster as arousal and need beat fear and grief. Robb kissed Jon again, their kiss as demanding as their movements were now.

The sounds they were making weren’t loud, but loud enough for the guards outside hear them. Jon would have to deal with that later; now he needed to kiss Robb, smell him, feel him,  _fuck_ him.

Robb’s moans were getting louder; Jon knew he was close, the thrusts never changed from the frantic rhythm, his hands still guiding Robb’s hips. Robb bit his bottom lip to stop a scream after a particular hard thrust, and Jon knew he was hitting all the right places.

“Jon…” Robb whimpered. His eyes locked on Jon’s. Jon saw the same fear, the same love and need he was feeling there. He had, until now, only thought about losing Robb, but as they moved together with their eyes locked, Jon realized why Robb had forgotten reason and ran to him. He was losing his fight, Ghost was busy a few meters away, there were no way anyone else could have saved him.

“I know.” Jon told him, because he did, he would’ve done the same, he would gladly die if it meant Robb would be safe. He just hoped neither he or Robb had to make that decision again.

Jon moved one of his hands from Robb’s hip to his cock and pressed their lips together again. The kiss was slow and tender, even as their movements and the way they held each other were harsh and desperate. It didn’t take long for Robb to come; he bit Jon’s shoulder as it hit him, his body contracting and shaking on top of Jon, who was too lost on his own orgasm to notice anything but Robb’s warmth against him.

 

“Don’t do that again, Robb.” Jon asked later when as he wore his clothes, the soreness in his muscles starting to make it hard to move. If he could walk tomorrow he’d be thanking the gods.

“I don’t regret doing it, Jon.” Robb said, looking every bit a king sitting on the bed with only furs covering him from the cold, even with the bloody bandage around his chest. Jon didn’t mind it as much as he should, “But in the next battle, you’re staying at my side, at all times, so I don’t have to run in case you need me again”

It wasn’t nearly a good enough promise, it didn’t make either of them safer, but it was enough.

“Thank you.” Jon said.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, if you want you can find me [here](http://scottysanchor.tumblr.com/) on tumblr.


End file.
